Kuragari
by Rawkin Paradox
Summary: This is how the guilty die -- innocence a long forgotten pleasure. During the massacre of the village. LIMBO MAN CENTRIC. FF2.


You hear him coming now, hear the ropes drag on the floor.

You run faster, hoping and praying that maybe, just maybe it'll be enough to reach the door, reach the bridge, reach the gate to the forest.

But you're at the point of exhaustion now, and your legs are tired, so tired -- every rushed step sends huge pains shooting through your muscles. Your body cries out for a rest, for a moment's peace, but your mind pushes you forward.

'It is coming,' you think, rushing toward the door at the end of the hall. '_The Kusabi...the Kusabi is coming, but the door is right there...I can make it!'_ you think, and the sheer idea of almost being free, almost escaping from this nightmarish hellhole is enough to silence the pain in your throbbing legs, numb your aching lungs.

But you can't go on any further, and you can't hear him behind you. Did you lose him?

You pause for a moment, heavy gasps for air escaping your mouth.

You can see the door, you can see freedom, you can see the way to peace.

Something grabs you from behind, and you let out a scream, a sob, a cry of anger at the gods as you feel his sharp, mangled claws that once were hands rake deeply across your back. You can feel the blood gush from the wounds as he grabs you by the hair of your head and drags you slowly back to the Grand Hall.

You can hear the failed Maiden cackling and the others, the unlucky ones ('_would this not make me an unlucky one, too?_' half of your mind considers as the other half screams from the pain) who have yet to die from their wounds gurgle death rattles and blood.

You wince as his hold on your hair tightens, whimper as he drags you across the dirty, dusty floor. It feels like every pebble, every grain of dirt has managed to slip into those claw marks on your back.

You only hope and pray to the crimson butterflies that he is finished with you, finished and dragging you back to die from blood loss, a mere trophy to add to his collection of growing bodies.

But it seems that the butterflies are gone, fluttering aimlessly in the woods, laughing at your village's idiocy at attempting the ritual without the correct tools ('_or perhaps they are laughing at the vengeance that has finally come...maybe even both,_' a small part, a dark rational part, of you considers).

He grasps you by the neck, lifting you up high above the dead and dying. You can see the failed Maiden in the center of the massacre, her pale skin glowing brightly as she laughs that maddening laugh, spinning in circles, pleased with her destruction.

You shut your eyes, not wanting to see, not wanting to hear anymore.

The Kusabi is silent as his grip on your neck tightens, and he throws you into the nearest pile of the dead. You land on a child, one that looks to be about the age of your own daughter, with eyes that scream and plead out for Mommy, Daddy, someone to save them from this nightmare.

You want to cringe, want to move away, want to scream, but your muscles are useless, nerves torn from your spine from the monster's attack, and your voice seems lost, caught in your windpipe.

You wonder how you're still living.

You think maybe it's punishment from the *, punishment for your failure to bring them both back.

You hear footsteps near you, and you move your eyes to the side, trying to see who the harbinger of death is.

It's the maiden, rope mark still fresh on her neck, eyes so full of malice as she looks down on you, grinning a grin that once upon a time, you would have thought impossible of her.

She bends down and softly touches your arm, almost in a comforting gesture, and for a moment, her eyes soften, and you see something almost like pity in them...but only for the moment.

Then her grip on it tightens and you feel a pain shoot through your shoulder. You try to scream, try to cry out, beg and plead for forgiveness, but you can hear bones popping, feel skin tearing, muscles ripping, blood gushing.

She doesn't stop smiling as she rips your arm out of the socket and tosses the now useless limb in a pile.

Your vision grows darker and darker as you finally succumb to the Darkness.

'_The Kusabi_,' you think, trying so hard to just slip into peace, '_the Kusabi..._'

The failed Maiden's laughter grows quieter, until finally, you can not hear anymore.

'_Is coming..._'


End file.
